


The Calm Before the Storm

by TheNightComesDown



Series: The Pacific - Love Heals [1]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, Peleliu, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17103812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightComesDown/pseuds/TheNightComesDown
Summary: The morning of D-Day at Peleliu, Snafu makes a suggestion to Sledge as to how they should spend their last hour of safety.





	The Calm Before the Storm

The sun had barely crept above the horizon, but the main deck of the ship was already buzzing. Men sat around and smoked, or leaned over the ship’s railing and watched as they drew closer island of Peleliu. Eugene Sledge and his mortar partner, Snafu Shelton, stood watch at the stern of LST 661, observing the wake as the ship plugged along.  


“Are you sure you don’t want to stand at the bow with the other fellas?” Sledge asked, waving away the cigarette Snafu was offering. Both men were dressed in their heavy-fabric utilities, but with the sea breeze, the heat was manageable at this time of day.  


“I don’t wanna see the shore until I’m jumpin’ outta that damn amtrac,” Snafu said, shaking his head. “If I see it now, I’ll probably lose my breakfast.” As a veteran of Cape Gloucester, this wouldn’t be Snafu’s first battle. Sledge, however, had only simulation experience – he felt his stomach turn as he thought about boarding the amtracs below deck in less than hour.  


“Alright,” Sledge shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Snafu as the man puffed away on his cigarette. His jaw was sharp, with no sign of stubble; he had shaved that morning, as all the men had been instructed to do. They didn’t know if, or when, they would have another chance.  


“The hell you lookin’ at, Sledge?” Snafu asked. Sledge snapped out of his daze, realizing he had been staring into space.  


“Sorry,” Sledge stammered, “I was just thinking.” Snafu tilted his head and observed Sledge, who looked away in embarrassment.  


“And what do pretty boys like you think about?” Snafu drawled, trailing a finger across Sledge’s hand, which gripped the ship’s railing. Sledge snatched his hand away, and scowled darkly at Snafu.  


“What are you doing?” Sledge demanded. His brow was furrowed, but his eyes flickered with fear. Snafu smirked mischievously, and let his eyes trail down to Sledge’s belt, and back up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m just thinkin’,” Snafu replied, shrugging his shoulders. Sledge was frozen in place, unsure of how to proceed. Snafu leaned forward until his mouth was right next to Sledge’s ear. “I’m thinkin’,” Snafu continued, “that we have an hour before we get called down to gear up.” Sledge shivered as he felt Snafu’s warm breath on his neck; he had never been in this position before. An image of Snafu’s mouth against his throat ran through his mind, confusing him greatly, but he shook his head and stepped back, breathing hard.  


“I’m flattered,” Sledge choked out, “but I think I should go below deck and check my pack.” He mustered up the courage to meet Snafu’s eyes. Gone was the suggestive smirk; Snafu’s skin had grown pale, and Sledge noted a hollowness behind his eyes. As fast as the man’s vulnerability had shown itself, it morphed into annoyance.  


“See you on the beach,” Snafu growled, “better be ready for a real shitstorm." His shoulder connected hard with Sledge’s as he pushed past him and strode toward the stairs that led into the belly of the ship. Sledge tried to stop himself, but after a few seconds, he raced down the stairs after Snafu. Once he made it down, he pressed himself against a metal wall in an attempt to move past a group of slow-moving officers who were walking down the corridor.  


“Where do you think you’re headed, Private Sledge?” Gunnery Sergeant Haney barked, stopping Sledge in his tracks. “The rest of your company is headed for the last hot chow they’ll get for the foreseeable future, and you seem to be running in the opposite direction.” Sledge turned around, and stood at attention. His mind was racing, and he picked the first excuse he could think of.  


“I always get the runs before a big event, Gunny,” he blurted out. “Just need to hit the head, and I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” Sledge kicked himself as Gunny Haney looked to the two officers beside him. A smile spread slowly across Haney’s face, and he burst into laughter as he saw the panic in Sledge’s eyes.  


“Alright then, boy,” Haney chuckled, shaking his head. “Better get down there before you shit clean through those dungarees. There’ll be plenty of time for that on Peleliu.” Sledge offered a quick salute, and took off down the corridor as soon as the officers had returned it.  


When he reached the door to the compartment he shared with his 13-man mortar section, he cranked the door handle, stepped into the cramped space, and slammed the door behind him. The racks were empty, as his comrades were in the ship’s mess for chow. Snafu stood in the centre of the room, his back to the door.  


“Fuck off, Sledge.” Snafu’s shoulders were tense. “I don’t want no fa—”  


“Don’t you call me that, Shelton,” Sledge interrupted. “You’re angry, I get that. I’m sorry I reacted how I did. I was just...surprised that you wanted...me,” he admitted softly. Sledge strode over to Snafu and put a hand on his shoulder. Snafu tried to pull away from him, but Sledge tightened his grip.  


“Sledge, I swear to God, if you don’t get off of me, I'll shoot you the second you hit that beach,” Snafu cautioned, but Sledge ignored him. He placed both hands on his shoulders, holding him in place, before gathering him into a tight embrace. Snafu remained entirely still as Sledge’s chest pressed against his back. For nearly a minute, neither man spoke. Without warning, Snafu let out a choked sob, and a tear dripped from his face onto Sledge’s arm.  


“I can’t go out there again, Sledge,” Snafu gasped. “I won’t make it back this time.” Sledge grabbed Snafu by the shoulders and turned him around, until they were face to face.  


“You aren’t going to die out there, Snafu,” Sledge promised. “Every man on this ship has your back.” He wiped a tear from Snafu’s cheek with his thumb. “Plus,” he smirked, “one look at your skinny Cajun ass droppin’ mortars from 300 yards and every Jap on that island is gonna shit his pants.” Snafu barked out a laugh, and mopped at his face with his shirtsleeve.  


"Snafu," Sledge started, but he was cut off.  


"Merriell," Snafu corrected. "I want you to call me Merriell." Sledge nodded, and swallowed the lump that had been forming in his throat.  


"Alright then, Merriell," he continued, "I want you to know that I pulled away from you on the deck because...because I want to be more than 20 minutes of action to you." Sledge shifted his weight awkwardly, not sure if his point was being made. "What I mean is..."  


"You wanna be my comrade," Snafu finished. "In every sense of the word." Snafu took several deep breaths to calm himself before saying anything. 

"Okay," he said finally. "You have my back, and I'll have yours." Snafu held out a hand, which Sledge grasped and shook firmly.  


Sledge watched as Snafu’s demeanour shifted back into that of a battle-hardened Marine. He stood taller, rolled his shoulders back, and tilted his head back. His green eyes darkened as he slipped back into his natural cautious swagger.  


“The hell you lookin’ at, pretty boy?” Snafu asked, watching Sledge carefully. Sledge stood up and mirrored Snafu’s posture. They stood nearly the same height, though each carried himself with a unique kind of confidence.  


“Well,” Sledge said earnestly, “I reckon I’m lookin’ at a man I respect a whole lot.”  


“Aw, fuck outta here with that cutesy shit,” Snafu groaned in mock disgust, shoving him playfully. “I need to get some of that steak and eggs they’re servin’ for chow, in case that’s the last shit I ever eat.” Sledge made for the door with Snafu on his heels. As he reached for the handle, Snafu placed his hand against Sledge’s shoulder blade. They stood a hair’s width apart, completely still. Finally Snafu leaned forward, his mouth hovering beside Sledge’s ear.  


“Thank you, Eugene,” Snafu murmured, pressing a kiss against Sledge’s jaw, “for havin' my back.” Sledge nodded sharply, and waited a moment for the daze to wear off before turning the door handle and proceeding into the corridor.  


**Author's Note:**

> Can't tell if this is hot garbage or not, friends. Just tell me, no hard feelings.


End file.
